


Bestia

by PepperSomerset



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), One-Sided Attraction, Other, Unhealthy Relationships, Zenos being Zenos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 08:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20355646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperSomerset/pseuds/PepperSomerset
Summary: "He sees them bare and bereft of all senses, hovering between the feeling of exquisite hatred and the sound and smell of battle."





	Bestia

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting here and it's about this butthole. Go figure.

He sees this Hero, this vaunted Warrior of Light, for all that they are beneath the star's expectations- beneath the scions expectations. He sees them bare and bereft of all senses, hovering between the feeling of exquisite hatred and the sound and smell of battle. Their weapons clashing as his warrior bares their teeth and the beast in them surges forward. The feeling of their auras clashing against one another, battling for dominance is the most exquisite thing he's ever felt and he dares not believe they'd come close to besting him.

Zenos has seen them fall to his blade before, and each time they've come back stronger than he had ever dared hope. He kept track of their movements this time instead of simply striking out and knocking them backwards. His attacks didn't seem to phase them nearly as much as they came back again and again, beautiful lips parted into a roar. Indignant down to the very last. Their dance draws out longer and longer until he feels a bead of sweat drip down his face. That alone is enough to make him laugh with joy. This feeling was unlike anything he had ever beheld before, and it was all because of them. The fire in their eyes and the force of their attacks. Never bowing their head to him or letting themselves be cowed by his strikes let alone his aura. He'd seen the alliance leaders themselves turn tail and run from just the sight of him, preferring to let their subordinates deal with the situation. Drawing their troops back until all that was left was a bloody, burning battlefield.

How he would love to get close, close enough to feel their breath on his cheek as he claims their lips and neck and whatever skin he can mar with his own fangs bared. But, he is getting ahead of himself again, much as he is wont to do with a creature this beautiful. With a beast fueled by fire and aether and blood and steel.

They fall, much as he had expected to, but it wasn't without marring his own armor. How long had it been since someone had landed a hit on him? How long had it been since he had felt his blood course through his veins and hum? A fragment of his helmet falls to the ground and he reaches up, curiously, to run his fingers over the now jagged equipment. How wonderful! How invigorating!

Tossing the useless helm aside, he stares his warrior down as they lie in the dirt, still struggling to get up and fight. And had they the strength, he doesn't doubt that they would still be battling him long into the night. How their dance would rise and fall! But that was better saved for later. When the very heavens above could see their coupling.

He advances on their prone form until he's standing before them, looking down at his beautiful beast. They glare up at him, obviously wanting to get back up and rend his flesh from his bones. He leans down and takes a lock of their hair between his fingers gently, stroking the sweat soaked locks, and briefly wonders what they'd look like crowned in jewels. Laid up in the palace of Ala Mhigo, being worshiped as the god among men that they were. But ah, that idleness, he couldn't stand for that. Such a fine weapon they were, and he couldn't stand to see them waste away as some sort of trophy.

“My, my, Hero..” He coos, “you look so good like this, rising up like a phoenix from the ashes.”

They say nothing, as is their custom.

“No words for me? Very well... But we shall continue this conversation at a later date.” His eyes darken, “I expect you to sing for me next time.”  
  
For now, he will leave. He will let them rest and recover. If only to see them come back stronger once again- full of teeth and claws and blood and sinew. He would let his warrior bloom and unfurl into their true form. Into what he knew they would be. A prey worthy of the hunt.


End file.
